


A Court of Vengeance and Chaos

by blackgirluniversitea



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Multi, feysand adoption, feysand baby - Freeform, feysand baby has one hell of a life, feysand baby with spicy trauma, feysands baby mini inner circle is chefs kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgirluniversitea/pseuds/blackgirluniversitea
Summary: Warrior, Daughter, Women, Mate, Friend, Enemy, Chaos turned flesh. All words that have been used to describe Carnin, daughter of the most powerful High Lord and Lady in the history of Prynthian. Watch as Carnin follows closely in her father's footsteps as she goes to the Illyrian Mountains at the age of fourteen to train, as she navigates being a warrior in a misogynistic culture, as she kills and dies to protect the people she loves most.When her life is threatened by Beron, High Lord of the Autumn Court, a rare and dangerous power emerges from her. A power that comes with a dark and twisted path.She is strength, a force to be reckoned with. She is Chaos.
Relationships: Amren/Varian (ACoTaR), Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS CLICKED ON THIS STORY!  
> The series follows Carnin's story as much as possible. So while she is the first Feysand child (for right now), the couple will not appear much in this series.

“Carnin, my angel, please -” SPLAT! 

Rhysand looked down at his body to see his previously clean black shirt, completely splattered with dirt. Their almost-two-year-old had taken to gardening if you could even call it that. She just enjoyed flinging dirt at people and playing with bugs. 

He shrugged the dirt off of him with his hands, crossing his legs as he sat in the grass with his little one. 

“You dirty.” Carnin states, her chubby finger-pointing in his direction. She was just learning how to speak, her first word being ‘dada’. Feyre never heard the end of that one.

“I wouldn’t be if a certain little bat decided to stop flinging dirt at me.” He poked her chest as he called her a bat, sending her into a fit of giggles as she fell back into the dirt. Rhysand watched as her small black wings fluttered behind her in excitement as she fell, his heart swelled. Soon after the war Feyre had decided she wanted to children, they tried for months, almost half a year. They knew it would be difficult, but it still hurt. 

The mother must have heard their prayers, because weeks later, Cassian came bounding into the townhouse talking about an abandoned child at Windhaven, how both of her parents had died in the war. Feyre was taken aback by the both, she thought there were no female Illyrian warriors. Carnins mother, Darielle was one of the first, having been trained by Cassian himself. Although he was the only one with any relation to the girl, he knew he wasn’t ready for a child, nor would be for a good fifty years until he figured his shit out with Nesta.

The couple fell in love the moment they stepped into that camp mothers tent. Carnin was splayed out on her stomach, shaking a toy fille with beans in her hand, paying them no mind. She threw the toy down in front of her, gurgling happily at the noise it made. Rhysand looked down at his mate whose eyes mirrored his own, full of tears. 

The small babe had rich dark skin, darker than most Illyrians. She had loose curls on the top of her head, none of them long enough to move past her rounded ears. The hazel eyes, distinctly Illyrian, as well as the small black wings that draped around her body.

“Can I hold her?” Feyre asked tentatively, the child's eyes now on them. The elderly woman nodded, moving next to Rhysand when Feyre went to the girl.

“Hello Carnin, my name is Feyre.” She talked like the child could actually understand her. The child smiled her shoulders lifting up to her ears when Feyre gently pinched her cheek. Carnin fell into her, Feyres arms quickly looping underneath her arms. She could already feel the girl drooling down her shirt, not that she minded much.

“How old is she?” Rhysand asked as he watched his wife gently held the child, whispering in her ear all the while.

“Just turned one a week ago.” 

Feyre walked over to them, the small babe lifting her head off of her shoulder as they approached Rhysand. Carnins eyes went to his wings, a smile growing on her gap-toothed mouth. The wings were familiar, she had been in camp long enough to know that that was what her people looked like. She reached her arms out to him, struggling to get out of Feyres grip, who only laughed and put the child in her mates' arms. 

She reached behind Rhysand to his wings, squeezing the membranes gently. Rhysand laughed, tears slipping out of his eyes as he watched her.

“Hi baby, I’m going to be your new daddy, and this is your new mommy.” He spoke to the child, his High Lord facade nowhere to be found as he beheld the small bundle of joy in his arms. She made sounds at him, her attention thinning rather quickly with his wings, finding a new fascination in his point ears. 

“Does she have any belongings?” Rhysand asked from the girl's shoulder, gently taking her hands away from his face. The camp mother nodded, going into a separate room of the tent, leaving the couple with their new child.

 _She’s gorgeous_. Feyre spoke down the bond, putting a hand on the baby's back as she snuggled into Rhys’ chest, her chest moving up down as she breathed deeply.

_She’s perfect, and she’s ours._

The memory of that day laid fresh in Rhys's mind when his daughter stumbled over to him, arms out, and aimed for his shoulders. He let out an overexaggerated “oof” when he caught her, falling back towards the ground. Carnin squealed, her small arms tightening around his neck.

“Silly daddy.” She said, squirming around on top of him to pull herself into a sitting position. 

“Who’s being silly,” Feyre asked from the doorway, Carnins eyes lighting up at the sight of her mother.

“Daddy! Daddy!” She repeated, beating her small hands on his chest. Both adults laughed, Feyre leaving the threshold to join her small family in the yard. Rhysand grabbed the girl gently, placing her in his lap as his mate sat next to him.

_How was the Autumn Court?_

_Beron is cooperating, although begrudgingly. Eris managed to convince him to allow humans into his court._

_Eris is doing The Mother's work._

Feyre snickered, making noises at their daughter, who laughed and fell against her father's chest.

“Dinner is going to start soon, we should all get dressed so we aren’t late to our own party. Again.” Feyre raised an eyebrow at Rhys, reminding him of the last time they almost missed their family dinner. He was so caught up in playing with Carnin that they both fell asleep on the floor of her nursery, only waking when Cassian and Azriel charged in, having not seen the two at the dinner hosted in their own home.

Rhys nodded in agreement, picking up Carnin despite her protests as she reached towards the ground.

Feyre took Carnin to her room, putting her in the bath to wash off the dirt that had collected on her wings, body, and in her hair. It took longer than it should have, Carnin almost throwing a fit when Feyre didn’t let her play with the bubbles she created.

Carnin picked out her _own_ dress for dinner that night, it made her feel very grown-up. She gravitated towards her favorite one, a simple yellow dress with small white dots scattered over it. Even though she lived in the night court, she preferred the light colors. The pinks, baby blues, yellows, light greens, no matter how the colors pulled on Feyre’s heartstrings. 

She was already fearing a mating bond between her daughter and any of Tamlins' future offspring based on her favorite colors alone, should he choose to get his life back together.

By the time they were ready to Carnin was practically jumping off the walls with excitement. She loved all of her aunts and uncles, Azriel being her favorite out of the eight she had. She could be entertained by his shadows for hours. Feyre often felt bad for her friend, offering to take the girl for a while, Azriel always waving her away saying that it was fine. He loved that little child so much, all of them did. Even Amren, who hated to admit it.

A harsh knock sounded at the door, startling carnin and breaking her out of her joy. She looked up her dad, he had told her that she could open the door that day. He nodded in confirmation, watching as her little bare feet raced across the floors.

“Uncle Cass!” 

“Princess Carnin!” 

The girl wrapped her small arms around her uncle's calf, pulling back and scowling when he messed up her hair.

“You couldn’t have waited until the end of the night to do that,” Feyre said, bending down and fixing the girl's hair when the two approached them. She was the one who spent half an hour doing it after all. Cassian just gave her a dismissive shrug.

“Az?” Cassian asked as he walked to his brother.

“On his way. I’ll meet you in the study.” He nodded, bidding his niece goodbye before he walked down one of the long hallways that led out of the foyer. Carnin was too caught up in the appearance of their new guests to be bothered with where her uncle ran off too.

“Ren!” Amren sneered at the nickname the girl had given her but gave the girl a tight-lipped smile when she approached. 

“Tell her to stop doing that.”

“Amren...she’s two.” 

“Yeah, I’m two!” Carnin repeated, proudly sticking out her pointer and middle finger. She silently cursed the mother for giving the child Rhys’s cockiness.

“Have I already been forgotten?” The dark-haired male at Amrens side joked.

“Never, hello!” Varian inclined his head towards the girl, who offered him a dramatic bow.

“I need to use the restroom.” Amren declared, going down the same hallway Cassian disappeared down.

“Does she still-” Rhys started.

“Not a word.” Rhys smiled at his friend and nodded, knowing that his small friend could probably hear them.

“You can wait in the dining room for her,” Feyre told Varian after the three adults awkwardly started at the child. Varian nodded and left the room, walking to the deep livingroom then turning left, the wall blocking the view of him.

“How is my favorite birthday girl?” The silky smooth voice asked from the doorway. A loud gasp left the girl's lips at the voice, practically jumping into its holder's arms.

“Az!” The man smiled, easily fitting the girl in one arm. Rhysand rolled his eyes jokingly at the exchange. More often then not whenever Azriel came to the house you could expect to see Carnin trailing slowly after him. Even when he needed to speak with Rhys privately, at the end of their meeting they would find the girl sitting outside on the floor, keeping herself entertained as she waited for her uncle to finish. 

_Stop being jealous._ Feyre chided, watching as the two had a whispered conversation, or attempted. Carnin had yet to understand the concept.

_Look at him, he always gets the most attention._

_Illyrian baby._

By the time they finished their conversation, the pair had walked over to them, Carnin giggling at something the shadowsinger had said.

“Cassian is already waiting in the study,” Rhys said by way of greeting. Azriel nodded, whispering something else to the small girl before placing her in her mother's arms. Carnin pouted when her dad and uncle walked away, even after both of them placed small kisses on her cheeks. 

Varian had taken a seat at the head of the long wooden dining table, ten chairs seated around it. He smiled when the High Lady walked in, giving her daughter a small wave, who returned it enthusiastically. The dining room was large enough to fit their already big family, and then some. It’s wooden table matched the floors it stood on, the rest of the furniture in the room consisting of whites, blues and grey.

Feyre sat next to Varian, placing her daughter in her lap as she waited for more people to arrive. Varian and Amren had been spending more time in summer court recently, the former having work to attend to and insisting that his girlfriend accompany him. It was entertaining, seeing how Cressida openly hated and feared the silver-eyed women. But Amren had insisted on them being back in time to celebrate her niece's birthday. Carnin and Varian were talking happily when two of her aunts walked into the room.

Feyre didn’t even notice Mor and Elaine walking into the room until Carnin started struggling to get out of her lap to greet the newcomers. If this girl was something, it was definitely friendly.

“Hello, little one.” Elain greeted, bending down to press a kiss to her nieces head, who smiled brightly up at her in return.

“How does it feel being two years old?” Mor asked from beside her.

“I’m big girl now!” By now the two sitting at the table had turned around to witness the conversation.

“Indeed you are.” Varian agreed.

The other two settled at the table after that. Mor sitting diagonally from Feyre, Elain sitting next to her. The four of them talked for a while, Amren walking into the room to sit on the other side of Varian, who seemed to not care that a child was sitting across from them as she began to kiss his neck.

“Amren, the child. Control yourself.” Rhys chided as the three Illyrian males entered the room. Amren glowered but obeyed. 

“My love.” The male said, taking a seat next to Feyre. She smiled, leaning into the hand that he placed at her back. 

“Cake! Cake! Cake!” Carnin cheered from her mother's lap, looking up at her expectantly as she clapped her hands together.

_You should have never mentioned that._

_Sorry_. Rhys replied with a wince.

“Hold on baby, we have to eat food first.” Carnin only pouted, curling into Feyre’s chest. Rhys snapped his fingers after Feyre’s comment, trays of meats, fish, bread, and vegetables appearing on the long table. Wasting no time, Cassian and Mor began piling food on their plate, conversation flowing easily after that. 

This family time was precious, nobody was in Velaris at the same time anymore. Cassian spent most of his time in Illyria, tiring of pining after Nesta. Mor disappeared for weeks one end to mother only knew where, and Amren and Varian spent more time in Summer than they did Velaris. The only three who deigned to stay were Azriel, Elain, and Nesta, the latter only having been seen six times in the past year. And even then it was only to make sure she hadn’t drunk herself to an early grave. So Rhys sat back, content to watch his rag-tag family bicker, drink wine and laugh the night away. 

When dinner began to wind down he felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down meet his daughter's big hazel eyes that stared up at him.

“Dadda, I tired.” She said, rubbing her eyes as she crawled out of Feyres lap and into his own. He nodded his head, excusing himself from the table as he carried the sleepy child in his arms to her room. She slept next to them, a door connecting their rooms. When she was old enough, they would allow her to pick whichever room she wanted, that wasn't already accounted for. But until then, Rhys led her into her small blue painted room and laid her in her toddler bed.

She whined when he took her out of his arms, her protests quickly silencing when he pulled up a chair and sat next to her, allowing her to grab onto his arm.

“Love you dadda.” She muttered sleepily, her wings draping onto the bed behind her. Rhys’s heart fluttered as he stared down at his daughter, tears beginning to brim in his eyes.

“Goodnight my angel.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH Thank you so much for reading! I will be posting my cast list by appearence in these end notes at the end of every chapter when you meet a character. But anyways PLEASE LEAVE A KUDOS! And if ur feelin generous maybe comment :)


	2. Chapter 2

_ ~12 years later~ _

“Lennox where the fuck did you put my knife!” Carnin screamed as she charged into the painting studio where her cousin sat, drawing a landscape on a wide canvas.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners.” He spoke, not even bothering to turn around to face the young Illyrian female. Ballsy move for a human.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to steal.” She retorted. He huffed, only stopping his painting when she cut in front of him, not caring when he accidentally moved his brush against her black shirt.

“Knife. Now.” 

“I don’t have your fucking knife!” He was yelling now, pushing his chair behind him as he stood up. He towered over his younger cousin by a foot, if not more. But she didn’t back down, holding his stare until her hand jutted out. Punching him directly in the gut.

“Bitch.” His hand connected sharply with the side of her head.

“Jerk.” She replied, elbowing him in the side of his stomach.

“Language, both of you.” Her father said as he walked ever so gracefully into the room, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“But dad, he stole my knife.”

“Nox.” The teenager grumbled, reaching into the back on his pants to pull out her favorite purple metallic knife. Smiling triumphantly, Carnin plucked it from his hands, a skip in her step as she walked out of the room, dramatically bowing to her father as she went. He rolled his eyes and laughed in response, giving an apologetic look to his nephew as he followed his child.

Rhysand watched as his daughter skillfully flipped the knife between her fingers, her eyes marveling at how the blade caught the light that drifted in from the floor to ceiling windows in one of the many sitting rooms on their estate. He didn’t know what to expect with her, she didn’t inherit certain personality traits of theirs. It was only when she began sparring with her uncles that he and Feyre realized they would be raising a mini Cassian. He could only assume it was karma for how they had treated his mother when they were young males.

“How was training?” Rhys asked as he walked over to his daughter, sitting on the couch she was standing in front of. She began to pace when he spoke.

“Azriel’s a dick.”

“Oh is he now?” His eyebrows raised at the accusation against his brother.

“He used his shadows, that’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair.”

“Ever the optimist father. But in a real-life situation, how likely will it be that the Illyrian I’m fighting will have shadows. Unlikely, that’s a very unlikely situation. So, therefore, it is completely unfair.” A mini Cassian indeed. 

“How do you know you’ll be fighting an Illyrian?” He asked, leaning forward in the chair so that his elbows rested on his knees.

She stopped her pacing, her wings moving around her body as if to hide her face. 

_ Shit. _ Carnin thought as she began to tap all her fingers against her thumb. A habit she picked up whenever she got anxious. 

She knew how her family felt about Illyrians, even though half of them were raised by them. But it was in her blood, literally woven into her DNA. Before her parents died in the war, they were both magnificent warriors. Magnificent _ Illyrian  _ warriors. Her mother - Darielle - was one of the first female Illyrian warriors. Cassian had trained the women himself. Carnin was born a fighter, she was born  _ to _ fight. But the anxiety of asking her dad prevented her from even mentioning it around him, much less her uncle Azriel. She knew Cassian would be ecstatic if she ever told him how she felt, but he also had a rough past with his people and would want to protect his niece from it.

“When’s mom getting back? She’s been gone all day.” Carnin asked, quickly changing the subject as she turned around to face her father, her wings tucking in behind her. Rhys squinted at the girl. He knew what she was doing, but if she could drop it so would he.

“Depends on how much shopping Mor needs to do.”

“Wants to do.” She corrected pointedly. Her aunt had more clothes then she knew what to do with. Carnin knew this because she borrowed - stole - regularly from her closet. Mor was none the wiser to her little visits to the blonde's personal shopping center, and she intended to keep it that way. 

Seemingly bored with the conversation, Carnin walked around the couch Rhys was sitting on to go upstairs to shower and change out of her soaked through training clothes.

“Plans?” Rhys asked as she left, turning his head slightly.

“Bye, dad.” She called over her shoulder, running up the stairs at the entrance of their house. When she was six years old her parents had let her choose her own room, and it came of no surprise to either of them when she chose the one with the best view of the city. Her room was almost a replica of their on the other end of their second story. It was smaller in size, but just as beautiful. The walls were painted a soft white color that would turn to a dusty pink whenever the sunset behind the sea. The trimmings on her windows and doors were painted a dark navy blue. Her queen bed sat directly opposite of the large double doors leading out to her wrap-around balcony that she flew out of whenever she saw fit. 

She took a quick bath, not doing much besides trying to get the stink of training off of her. When she was finished she put on a pair of dark leggings and a dark purple shirt, much like the ones Amren wore that showed off her toned stomach. 

“Elain?” She called when she walked into the kitchen, tying her long curly hair back as she went.

The short brunette woman turned around just in time to see her nice round the corner. “Azriel kept you longer today.” She stated, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron. Carnin shrugged in response, getting a blue apron out of one of the kitchen drawers. 

Carnin was about to start getting ingredients out of the various cupboards when she looked at the kitchen island, all the cookies already having been made and rolled. Her mouth hung open as she looked between the deserts and her aunt.

“You started without me!” 

“You were just taking so long and I had to get them started before dinner,” Elain exclaimed, opening the oven and putting the trays inside with the purple oven mitts Carnin had gifted her a few years ago. In response, Carnin let out an overexaggerated sigh. Elain and Azriel were her favorites, Cassian coming in at third. They were calm and reasonable, unlike Mor who was constant energy all the time, and Amren who was … Amren. It also helped that they were the best with giving advice. She took interest in music, books, poetry, the ceiling of her room being painted with whichever excerpt she favored most at the time. Carnin was seven when she got her first piano, and boy where her parents were over the moon when they found out the keys of the instrument could keep her busy for hours. When she got older they would often ask her to play at family gatherings in the evening when the festivities were calming down and everyone was drunker than they’d like to admit. 

“Can I at least eat the leftover dough?” She asked, jumping atop the counter as she hauled the big bowl into her lap. Her aunt nodded, coming over to dip her own finger in the bowl after she finished putting all the cookies into the oven. Carnin reached over to the drawer next to her and pulled out two small spoons for both of them to use. They talked idly for the duration of the timer, only stopping when they thought they heard footsteps approaching. Her mother would throw a fit if she saw how much dough she had consumed, and before supper at that. When the timer went off the two females worked together to take the trays out of the oven and transfer the cookies onto the cooling racks.

“Something smells good in here. You’re not making my favorites are you?” Her uncle's voice called from the doorway. Carnin rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the cookie to mock him, only to choke on it and spit it into her hands from the heat. 

Cassian laughed, clapping his hand on the doorway as he watched his niece.

“Yeah, nice try. Dinner’s ready you two.” And with that he left, Carnin still breathing heavily through her mouth to try and alleviate the pain while Elain snickered quietly under her breath. Karma had a pissy way of showing itself.

When the pair finally made it out of the kitchen, it seemed dinner had been going for a while. Each member of the family already had food stacked up and half-eaten on their plates.

“No need to wait for us of course,” Carnin said as she took a seat at the head of the table, untying the top of her apron as she let it fall into her lap. 

“If Cassian hadn’t gone in there to fetch you the both of you would have been content to stay in that kitchen until sunrise,” Feyre said, watching as her daughter began to pile potatoes and chicken onto her plate. Carnin only scrunched her face in response, getting a small chuckle from her father in return. Only Cassian, Elain, and Azriel showed up to dinner tonight. Nesta needed to take care of the newborn, and Mor only came to retrieve Lennox for dinner at her own place. As much as she loved her cousin, he was a right pain in her ass most of the time. 

“You did well in training today Carnin.” Azriel complimented. Carnin smiled to herself, looking down at her plate as she aimlessly moved around her food.

“Even against your shadows?” She asked, to which Azriel only smiled and replied, “Even against my shadows.”

“Let me take you to Illyria one day, I bet you’d give some of my men a run for their money.” Rhys’s eyes shot up at the comment, his eyes moving directly to his brother.

“Cassian.” The general only briefly looked at the High Lord before flashing her a small, although guilty, smile. Carnin pretended like she hadn’t heard a thing, digging into the food on her plate and turning to talk to her mother about the day she had. Feyre had taken the liberty of buying her new winter and training clothes. January in Velaris was just as cold - if not more so - as December. And unlike the other members of her family, she couldn't spell her body to be warm and comfortable no matter the temperature. After a while she excused herself from the table, wanting to go see exactly what her mother bought for her. She kissed each of her parents goodbye before leaving to go to her room.

On her bed laid multiple colors of a sweater she favored, it was hand-sewn and very fluffy, the fabric effectively shielding out the cold any time she wore it. Next to it lay new pairs of black and dark blue leggings, the material ranging from cotton to leather, specific for training. Her mother also bought her new fitted long and short-sleeved shirts, her current ones had permanent sweat marks on the underarms, back, and stomach. She thanked her mother quietly as she put all of her new clothes into her dressers and closets, changing into one of the new sweaters and cotton leggings in the process. 

She walked to her balcony, not bothering to close the doors that led to it before she jumped. A second after she hit open air her wings expanded, catching the air currents and allowing her to glide steadily through the sky. The sun had mostly set by now, the few remainders of daylight glistening on the horizon of the beloved Sindra. She flew up to the house of wind that overlooked her city. Compared to the rest of her family, she rather liked the house of wind or at least the view that it provided. Every chance she got she would fly to its balcony and dangle her feet off the edge. The day view was gorgeous by itself, but compared to the lights that danced on the water after the sun had set, compared to how alive the city felt in the early hours of the night, it was breathtaking. So she sat and watched as the city transformed and came to life, the noise of it gracing her ears if she concentrated hard enough. She let her wings droop onto the tile beneath her, propping an arm as she let her thoughts move to the conversation she was determined to have with her father tonight.

It wouldn’t be fun, but hopefully, it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought it would. She wanted to go to Illyria, wanted to be with her people, wanted to be like her birth-mother. She wouldn’t let Rhys hide her from it anymore, even if it meant forcing Azriel to winnow her there himself. 

Not wanting to get too drawn into her thoughts she left the house, making a few circles around the city and the open water of the river before gliding back into her bedroom, flapping her wings harshly behind her so the force of the wind would shut the doors. She winced when they slammed shut, hoping nobody was asleep yet. She quickly darted her head out of the door and looked down the hall, waiting a few minutes until she was sure her parent's door wouldn’t open. She settled into bed, sleep overtaking her rather quickly. 

_ S _ o  _ much for talking to dad. _

~

Her peace was short-lived, her anxiety hell-bent on not letting her get a good night's sleep. She groaned, possibly a tad bit overdramatic as she fought with her covers, huffing in annoyance as she got out of bed. She took her hair out of the ponytail it had been in all day, letting the loose curls fall down her back. She also changed out of the leggings she fell asleep in, swapping them for a loose pair of silk shorts. Carnin quietly made her way out of her room, again, careful not to wake her parents as she went. It was two a.m. according to the clock that hung in her room.

She went to the kitchen, deciding to make herself a cup of tea that would hopefully allow her to sleep undisturbed for the rest of the night. 

As she made her way back up the stairs, content to drink her tea on her balcony she tripped on the first step of the stairs, her mind still asleep. “Fuck.” She cursed, frustration overtaking her senses as small pieces of glass landed in her hands and shins. Tears began to spill from her eyes, her pent up emotions getting the best of her as she sat down and leaned against the railing. She sniffled softly, not even registering the footsteps that came to a halt a few steps above her.

“My angel, what happened?” Her father asked, the broken glass disappearing as he passed her, bending down as he began to pull the small shards from her leg. Carnin was too distressed to notice, wiping her now snot-filled nose on the back of her sweater. Rhys tsked softly offering her a hand. She looked up at him with big eyes, sad eyes that reminded him of her childhood. He hated it when she looked at him like that. 

“Come on.” He said once she took his hand, leading her to one of the couches in the sitting room. He patted the space next to him, moving his body accordingly when she laid her head in his lap. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the crashing waves or her uneven sniffles. 

“I want to go to Illyria.” Fuck, did that feel good.

“No.” Fuck, did that not feel good. 

“Dad-”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” She demanded, the tears coming to her eyes this time not out of frustration, but anger.

“Carnin, you don’t know what it’s like. I don’t want you to ever have to know what it’s like to live out there. To constantly have a target on your back.”

“I already have a target on my back.” He couldn’t argue with her there. 

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he looked at her, contemplating. He finally settled on, “Its 2 a.m., we can talk about this more after breakfast.” Well, it was better than nothing. At least he was willing to discuss it later. Rhys wrapped an arm around the girl, her head falling to her shoulder as her eyes fell shut, her breathing evening out again as she fell asleep on his lap.

That was how Feyre found them the next morning, wrapped up together on the sofa. 

_ Rhys. _ She called down the bond, not wanting to wake their sleeping child. He hummed in response, looking at her once she stepped into his line of sight.

_ Is she okay? _ Feyre asked, noticing the tear stains on her cheeks. Rhys sighed, unwrapping himself from his daughter, putting a cushion down off her head.

“She wants to train in Illyria.”

“Absolutely not, Rhys are you crazy.” 

“No, he’s just sensible.” So she was awake. 

A screaming match at nine o'clock in the morning was not how Rhys envisioned the start to his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just gonna say thank you at the end of every chapter, cause really thank you so much for reading.
> 
> lennox - jacob elordi  
> carnin - ryan destiny (yes i know shes 14 but this is how i imagine her to look 16+)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe have fun

That screaming match was the start of many, countless.

It was the same conversation over and over again and the three of them were starting to reach their breaking point. It had been two weeks since that night, and a decision was yet to be made. The only good thing to come of it was Feyre’s slight change of heart, slight. It also didn’t help that Cassian and Azriel had been adamantly avoiding the house, not wanting to be throttled by Rhys, or Feyre for that matter. They both knew they wouldn’t be able to resist the young girl once she started talking.

“She’s fourteen.”

“You were eight.”

“I was _forced_ , I didn’t fucking know any better Feyre. If I had to choose I would have never voluntarily served them, fought, and trained with them.”

“Your father. Served your father.” Rhys’ eyes shot to hers, a warning. “She won't survive, my darling she won’t. She has known nothing but comfort and warmth her entire life. And if we took her there,” Feyre shook her head, astonished at his lack of faith in their daughter. “They would snuff her out.” He screwed his eyes shut, banishing the thought from his mind. This conversation wasn’t getting them anywhere, they both realized after a beat of silence. Rhys sighed and walked over to his wife. 

_I’m tired of having the same fight._ Feyre spoke down the bond.

_I know._

_She’s not going to take no for an answer._

_I know._

The only acknowledgment he received was a soft stroke down the bond, her talons brushing against the walls in his mind. She brushed past him, muttering something about a late-night painting session at her studio. Rhys waited until she was gone to shut off his mind and release his frustration. He just wanted to keep her safe, that’s all he’s ever done and all he will continue to do. But she was getting older, still a babe by fae standards, but growing nonetheless. But she was Illyrian, more so than him. Who was he to rob her of that life, if she truly desired it? He had no doubt if she survived the training she would go down in their history.

~

One two, switch.

One two, duck, switch. 

Cassian was beginning to think Carnin would punch through the trailing gloves with her brute strength alone. Her eyes were set, hard. She couldn’t remember the last time she was genuinely angry with her parents if she had ever been. To try and deny her of this, for their own stupid, selfish, and overprotective reasons. They made it seem like she had no chance like she was sure to die in the Illyrian Steppes if she went. It wasn’t like she was completely incompetent. She picked up her first blade when she was five, even though she didn’t know what to do with it. She started formally training at ten, a few years older than the age most Illyrians began their training. Not to mention the fact that the men instructing her were three of the most powerful warriors to ever live. And they thought so lowly of her, that they wouldn’t even allow her to prove herself to them. They would snatch her from those mountains the moment she asked them to, she knew that. So why wouldn’t they even let her _try_?

“Carnin.”

“What.” She didn’t stop the repetitions. One two, switch. The bite in her tone was enough for him to not ask his next question. He felt like he was talking to Nesta. After her cross-switch exercise, she moved to the punching bag they kept in the corner of the room. The Illyrian males didn’t use it much, but for Carnin it served as a way to get her anger out without injuring anyone, not that her punches did much to them. Cassian went his own way, glancing his niece's way every so often to make sure she hadn’t punched _through_ the bag. 

It wasn’t until Azriel flew into the training ground at the house of wind did he fully divert his attention from her.

“She needs a distraction,” Cassian exclaimed, noticing Azriel’s concerned expression.

“She needs to talk.”

“Oh yeah, how much has that worked for her over the past few weeks?” He wasn’t wrong.

After contemplating their next move Azriel spoke, “In the ring. You’ll fight both of us today.” Carnin only nodded and steadied the bag between her arms. She tightened the cloth around her palms and wrists, tucking the extra material underneath the binding, then they were off. They landed their fair share of blows, Cassian efficiently knocking her on her ass with a well-directed punch in the gut before Azriel picked her up by her underarms. Barely giving her enough time to steady herself, he aimed for her side. 

“Focus girl.” She was letting her emotions control her, a weakness that would get her killed in the real world. Regaining her balance she kicked out her leg towards Azriel, her foot landing directly in his gut. He barely registered it, his movement quick and swift as he caught her foot between his hands. Azriel pulled her towards him, intending to throw her off balance, but for once, she was quicker. She put all her weight into the leg he held as she leaped into the air, twisting her body vigorously. Not only did she free herself from his grasp, but kick him directly on the side of his head with all the force she could. He stumbled back, his eyes widening when he saw the blood that coated his fingers.

She was angry, livid, and was channeling it all into her movements. Pride swelled in her chest as she realized what she had just accomplished. Making the shadowsinger bleed. However, she failed to turn around in time to deflect the blow Cassian made to her back with his foot, sending her face-first into the ground.

“You don’t have the skills to get cocky about that. Humble yourself before someone else does it for you.” Enough was enough, she thought to herself as she picked her battered body off of the floor. Cassian was right, she didn’t have the skills, and wouldn’t be able to acquire them until her parents let her do something about it. 

She was going to Illyria, that she was sure of. Whether she had her parents' blessing, or not.

“Come to the house with me. We all need to talk.”

“No.” Carnin whirled around to face her uncle. She winced, her muscles still sore.

“No? What do you mean no?”

“We are not getting in the middle of this thing, you have going on with your parents.” Azriel could tell his niece hadn’t calmed down during their sparring, if anything it had made her more volatile. 

“This thing, this thing is my birthright Azriel.” Carnin repeating phrases was never a good sign, neither was calling her family members by their full name. 

“It was ours as well. It’s not worth it.”

“Is it really though? Can you confidently look me in the eye and say that you would change a single thing about your lives, either of you. Can you tell me you wish you had never been born Illyrian? If you hadn’t you would have never met each other, met my dad, met Mor, met Amren or mom, or any other fucking person in your life right now. So would you really change it?” Their silence was answer enough. “We are going to the house.” 

She didn’t look back as she flew to their riverside estate, the sun beginning to set over the horizon when the trio finally landed. 

“Where’s mom?” Carnin asked as she stormed into her father's study. Rhys turned around, eyeing the two males who stood behind her, their eyes downcast to the floor. Not a second later did Feyre appear in the doorway her clothes splattered with paint. 

“Sweetie, what's going-”

“Give me one good, solid, indisputable reason you have for me not going.”

_So this is the kind of night we are having._

_It would seem that way, yes._ Feyre inched further into the room at her husband's words, leaning against the closed door.

“You could die.”

“Should have thought about that before adopting a child into the most hated family in Prythian. Next.” Stunned, was the only word that could describe the faces of her family members when she spoke. Utterly stunned. She was out for blood. 

“Watch your tongue.” 

_Rhys._ He shut her out, he didn’t need Feyre in his mind right now.

“Does anybody have another reason,” She looked to her mother, then her two uncles. “No one?” 

“You are still young. We don’t want to see you killed before you even have the chance to live your life.”

“Weren’t you barely older than me when you went to the Weavers house” She had paid enough attention at the dinner table to have picked up on that story over the years. Of how Rhys sent Feyre to retrieve his mother's ring from the Weavers house. The old death god who had died along with her brother, the Bone Carver in the war against Hybern. And that wasn’t even a necessity, her grandma was just petty. 

Feyre stumbled over her words, managing to get out a “That was different.”

“Not really.” Feyre glared at Cassian, the male not backing down from her gaze when he said, “She made Azriel bleed today.” Her parent's eyes shot to the shadow singer, and upon closer inspection realized he indeed, did have dried blood on his face. A shrug was his only response

“Give her a chance, Rhys.” 

“I would expect you of all people to understand where I’m coming from.” Cassian knew the worst of the Illyrians, being a bastard meant he had nothing, nobody. He had to steal food, find his own shelter, his own clothes. 

“It wouldn’t be like that for her and you know it. I’m not saying it would be easy, you’re standing alone wouldn’t allow her to train with the boys, she’d have to earn it. But for fuck’s sake let her try. If she hates it, she can leave and never go back. A few weeks won’t kill her.”

“It might.” Cassian let out an exasperated sigh and dragged a hand down his face in frustration, his brother was like a rock.

“What if someone threatens you.”

“I don’t care.”

“What if they only let you train for an hour a day and keep you doing bullshit chores not even I could get you out of.”

“I don’t care.”

“What are you going to do when someone attacks you.”

“I’ll heal.”

“What if somebody tries to touch you.”

“Rhys!” Feyre gasped as her husband, who didn’t even spare her a glance. His eyes were trained on Carnin, his arms outstretched on his table as he held it.

“I’ll kill them.” Rhys let out a dry and humorless laugh, his head dropped towards the floor.

“This is what I mean. You don’t know what you are getting yourself into. You couldn’t even imagine what it would be like.”

“I don’t care, dad. I don’t care. Please.” Her resolve was slipping, she didn’t know how much more she could take, how much more she could _beg_. 

“I care, Carnin. Your mom cares.” Her breathing quickened, her lips pressing together in a tight line as she willed the tears back into her eyes. Cassian and Azriel took it upon themselves to leave the room, not going far when they sat in the living room. “You aren’t going. Don’t bring this shit up again.” 

Tears began to roll freely down her face, the hardness in his voice left no room for discussion. None. Her whole body started to shake, her brain panicking. It couldn’t be a no, she wouldn’t let it be a no. 

“Dad. Dad, please.” She blocked his path when he started to move from behind his desk.

“Carnin!” Rhys yelled, he never yelled at her. Ever.

“I just want to go home! Please, dad just let me. Go. Home.” She finally let out a choked sob, balling the fabric that laid over her chest in her fist as she cried, and cried. 

The weight of her words hit both of the Fae like a tidal wave, Rhys going as far as to move back a step. This wasn’t home for her. It was, but it wasn’t. Not really. He knew what she meant, he did. They were her family. He was as much her father as Hadrian was, Feyre as much as her mother as Darielle. But he knew that there would always be a gaping hole where they had been, it would never go away, no matter how young she had been or how little she remembered when she had lost them. But he didn’t realize how much actually hearing it would hurt. Feyre looked equally as dejected. This felt familiar, _too_ familiar. 

Rhys winnowed out of the room, not allowing either of the females to get a word in. Carnin cried harder when he left, slumping into the desk. Feyre was at her side in an instant, pulling her daughter into her chest, letting her cry out everything she had been keeping bottled up for the past two weeks. 

She turned into her mother's warmth and grabbed onto her loose shirt as she repeated, “I’m sorry.” in between sobs. Feyre shook her head, shushing her gently as she began to run her fingers through the girl's curly black hair. When Carnin was young and would get stressed out, Feyre often did this to calm her down. She always put lots of pressure on herself to be the best daughter for her parents, resulting in impossibly high expectations of herself. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Carnin only nodded, her cries quieting to harsh sniffles as snot began to trickle out of her nose. She forced herself not to look at her uncles when they walked past them, keeping her eyes ahead of her, hyper-focusing on anything that came into her line of vision before moving onto the next thing. Her mother drew her a bath when they made it to her room, moving to her en suite bathroom that looked out over the bay full of ships and into the waiting ocean.

Feyre kissed her head as she left the room, but not before reassuring her that Rhys wasn’t mad at her and that he only wanted to keep her safe. 

The bath smelled of citrus and vanilla, her mother knew her well. Carnin set aside the training clothes that hung to her body on the top of her toilet seat before walking down into the bath. It was in the corner of the room, both sides being framed with a wall of floor to ceiling windows. She could see out, but nobody could see in. 

The stars and moon reflected on the deep blue water, a distorted image of her beautiful and beloved sky. The words of the argument kept replaying in her head, the way her father had looked at her when she first began to speak, the look he gave her when she finished speaking. She thought until her head began to throb, and then she thought some more. She hated arguing with her family, her parents most of all. No matter how headstrong she thought she was, she was still sensitive. 

Only when the water began to darken from the sweat and dirt she had rubbed off of her body did she leave the bath, her wings flaring behind her to dry faster. Going to her mirror she braided two french braids into her hair, a technique Mor had taught her when she was younger. She stared at herself when she finished, she often wondered what she got and from who.

 _No._ She said to herself before her brain went to a place she never dared go. _Not that, never that._ Carnin slipped into her favorite yellow nightgown that stopped mid-thigh before crawling underneath her covers. The crying had drained all the energy she had left in her, as well as the headache that had formed from her time in the bath. 

Carnin slept restlessly, tossing from side to side, waking up almost every other half an hour. This was exactly why she didn’t like to get into arguments, it took a physical toll on her body. She felt too much, all the time. Even when she was a baby. She was very in tune with her emotions, as well as the others around her. 

When she was three Feyre had left for the day, Carnin too little to care all that much. She took to tormenting her father, even though it was unintentional. Rhys ran himself into the ground trying to get the little girl to calm down at all. She moved from one thing to the next, often leaving a big mess in its wake that Rhys had to clean up. Even with his magic, it was hard to keep up with the little ball of energy. It wasn't until Rhys sunk into the floor face down did the girl stop, noticing her father wasn’t with her anymore. Seeing him lying on the floor, Carnin walked to her father, sitting down next to his face. He didn’t say anything as he watched his daughter stare at him, then mirror his movements. They stayed like that until Feyre came home, both of them looking dead on the floor. Upon closer inspection, the female saw that they were indeed sleeping. 

She was pulled out of the memory by a knock on her door, she checked the clock on her wall, it was three a.m. Reluctantly getting out of bed she rubbed her eyes and walked to answer her door. 

Rhys looked disheveled, his tunic unbuttoned, his hair pointing in different directions. This was the most un-High Lord like Carnin had ever seen her father. He noticed the frown that seemed etched into her face, the way her brows scrunched, the way her eyes shone with pain.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded raw like he had been screaming. Where had he gone? Carnin nodded a response, not trusting herself to not burst out crying if she opened her mouth. Rhys wrapped his arms around her, she did the same. “You know I only want to keep you safe. You know that. I’m not trying to trap you here. I just-” He took a deep breath, the very long and painful conversation he had with Cassian and Amren fresh in his mind.

~

_“Pull your head out of your ass boy. She won’t die.”_

_“She could.” Amren rolled her eyes, looking about ready to throttle her friend._

_“Anyone can die, at any time. Stop being such a territorial brute and let her go. What, were you going to keep her here forever? Expect her to be content to walk around the rainbow, play the piano, and visit the Sindra for the rest of her life?”_

_“No, but-”_

_“But what. Think you idiot.” Rhys slumped his shoulders. He seemed to be the only member of his family who thought this was a terrible idea._

_“You’re projecting.”_

_“Fancy words coming from you Cassian, have you finally decided to pick up a dictionary.” The Illyrian glowered at the female, clearly not in the mood._

_“Your childhood was shit and you want to protect her from what happened to you, what could possibly happen to her. And I get it, I do. But it's her choice. You didn’t have one, which is only one reason why her situation is completely different from yours. I’ll be there the whole time. Nothing will happen to her.”_

_“It’s a stupid and naive choice.”_

_“You don’t even have any arguments any more!” Cassian exclaimed, throwing his arms out to his sides for emphasis._

_“She’s my kid, Cass. My kid. She’s my whole world. I just want to keep her safe.”_

_It went quiet at that, the other two people in the room glancing at each other._

_“You sound like Tamlin.”_

_That was all Rhys needed to hear to change his mind._

~

“You’ll stay with Feyre in my old house. It's much smaller than the estate, but not so much different from the cabin.”

“Dad?” Carnin's eyes shot to her father's face as she tried to pull away to look at him, but his arms only pulled her closer. 

“Cassian will be there to help with training, with the group and afterward. Everybody will hate you, for who you are to me, who your birth parents were. But you can’t let their actions or words get to you.” She nodded into her father's chest, still in shock. 

“You leave at the end of the week.” Carnin couldn’t begin to explain the joy she felt at his words. It was a yes. It was finally a yes. A yes with conditions, but she could hardly care about those.

“Thank you, dad.” And she meant it, truly. Rhys nodded and smiled, the look on her face telling him that he made the right decision.

“Get some sleep, we can all talk more in the morning.” It was late. The sun would start peeking up over the mountains in a few hours and she had barely gotten any sleep. Carnin nodded, thanking him one last time before she turned into her room, climbed under her covers, and fell asleep. 

She slept peacefully till the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the tiny slow burn with the action, but I have to build up a few of her relationships before shit completely hits the fucking fan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! but if you are new and here from tik tok ... WELCOME

It had been decided earlier that week that Feyre, Cassian, and Carnin were to go to the camp alone, leaving Rhys in Velaris. Rhys had put up a fight at first, but Cassian was right. It would benefit Carnin more if Feyre took her, lessening the already enormous target that was sure to be on her back the moment they set foot in WindHaven. Nesta had wanted to go as well, but that was the last place Cassian needed or wanted her to be, especially with their four-month-old son. She had given him more of a headache than Rhys had, but after days of arguing, she too backed down. 

“You will not be accepted with open arms.”

“I know.”

“You will not be allowed to see healers for your injuries.”

“I know.”

“You will have to do chores, same as the other girls.”

“Dad.”

“You will be disciplined, harshly, for any mistakes.”

“Dad! I Know! You’ve told me this fifty times!” Rhys let out a sigh, shaking his head as if to clear it as he looked at his daughter. 

Her body was covered in Illyrian Leathers, not as ornate as the ones Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel wore, but Illyrian leathers nonetheless. She also wore thick black boots, a black coat lined with fur hung around her shoulders. She was truly her father's daughter.

“Please come back to me for Starlight in one piece.” Carnin laughed and grabbed Rhysands hand to pull him off of the couch. Nevermind the fact that she fell over afterward from being thrown off balance.

“Do you have everything?” Feyre asked as she rounded the corner into the living room fixing the sleeves of her shirt. Carnin nodded and pointed to her cluster of bags that sat in the foyer. It was mostly just more leathers, along with basic shirts, leggings, and sweatpants for when she wasn't training. She had wanted to take more dresses, but her mother made her keep her clothes simple. The ones she was allowed to bring were solid, dark colors. Blues, greys, blacks, dark green. She wouldn’t be needing nice ones, but she liked to wear them around the house instead of wearing pants and a shirt. Rhys snapped his fingers and her bags vanished, no doubt already waiting for them in the house.

Rhys had already contacted Devlon, ordering the camp lord to clear out his old house for their High Lady and his daughter. He had also taken it upon himself to change the beds, replacing the two twin beds in each room with two queens. 

Most of her family had gathered at the house that morning to see her off, not like she would be back in two months for starfall, then a month after that for her birthday.

Amren and Nestas visits were short, the baby began to get hungry and fussy halfway through, and Amren was never one for sappy goodbyes.

_ “She’s not dying Rhys, she’ll be back in a few months.” The black-haired woman had said to him after speaking with Carnin. _

_ “She’s still leaving.” _

_ “Illyrian baby.” _

Elain had dropped off a fresh blueberry pie the day before. Carnin had eaten half of it by the time Rhys had found her hiding out in Mor’s closet later that day. 

“They’re acting like I’m dying,” Carnin whispered to her older cousin as they watched their family talk in the front lawn. Lennox laughed from his spot on the porch and nodded his head.

“You might.”

“Shut up.” Why did everyone think she was going to die up there? It wasn’t like she would be by herself, or have her mother there with her. She knew it was going to be hard, but so hard that her life was genuinely on the line?

“Can I have your room if you do?” Lennox asked after a small period of silence. Carnin raised her middle finger in his direction, which only caused him to laugh more.

“Asshole.” She muttered as she walked towards her parents. Conversation halted when she reached them, everybody turning to look at her.

“Good luck little one.” Azriel’s deep voice said. She nodded her head towards her uncle and hugged him quickly before stepping back to stand next to her mother.

“Give them hell, please. The bastards deserve it.” Carnin smiled at her aunt as she walked back to her son in the house. Now only Rhys remained.

She could tell he was trying to keep it together, but she knew better. They all did. His heart was breaking in two, his mind going through every possible problem that could arise during her time there. 

_ “I want to participate in the Blood Rite.” Rhys’s head moved so fast it almost broke. _

_ “Fuck here we go,” Cassian muttered from behind the girl. She needed to lay it out, exactly what she wanted to do, complete during her time there. She wanted to fight in wars with them, lead legions, command armies. Taking part in the Blood Rite, and surviving was the only way she could do those things. _

_ Rhys had known she had wanted to train, but he didn’t realize she wanted to follow through, become part of their armies. _

_ “No.” Carnin had expected this. _

_ “Well, then what is the point of you sending me there? To learn how to fight and never use it? Why do you think I want to go?” Multiple alarms started blaring in Rhy’s head. He had only agreed to let her go two days beforehand, and the family was still working out the logistics of  _ **_how._ **

_ “I’ll be training for years dad,” She cut him off again before he had the chance to interject. “It’s not like I’ll just be thrown in after a week. I also want to stay there, for most of the year. I can come back on Starfall and the solstice, and maybe my birthday. But I’m going to commit to this, fully.” He would only be able to see her three times out of the whole year? Rhys looked towards Cassian for help, but the Illyrian just shrugged his shoulder as if to say ‘she has a point’. _

_ Finally speaking after thinking her words over he said, “There is no way to guarantee you’ll even be able to take it. Devlon has to agree to it, so do all the other camp lords.”  _

_ “Aren’t you their High Lord?” _

_ “It doesn’t work like that.” _

_ Carnin made a face. “What's the point of having power if you don’t use it.” Ouch. _

_ After two hours of back and forth between the three - Feyre and Azriel adding their own thoughts when they arrived at the estate - Carnin ultimately won the argument. And most others that followed after it. _

“Be safe,” Rhy’s began as he brought his daughter in for a hug, his head dropping to rest on hers. “And please come back to me in one piece.”

“I'll only be gone for a few months.” He shook his head and released her. _She would be fine._ _It was only a few months_ , he reminded himself as she moved to stand between Cassian and Feyre. Rhys nodded at his brother, as he grabbed Feyre’s hand, Carnin doing the same.

“See you soon,” Carnin said with a smile before they vanished.

~

Ice-cold wind was what greeted them when they winnowed outside of the house. Carnin shook her head, never particularly enjoying the mode of transportation. A frozen wasteland was a pleasant observation of what laid before her. There was no life here, no joy or kindness. The sound of grunting and metal clashing could be heard faintly in the distance. The men hard at work even after the sun had set. 

Carnin smiled. It felt familiar and right, a piece of the puzzle that was her life finally sliding into place. She could feel Darielle and Hadrian here, their struggle, their life, their  _ power _ .

She was home.


End file.
